The Missing Blank
by pafiction
Summary: "So...we know more about Derek, the guy who doesn't talk much, then Stiles, the guy who can't keep his mouth shut?"
1. Prologue

Author's note: This story starts right after season 2 (please void season 3). This is a collaboration story between Peridot and Amethyst. We are having fun making a summer story. Rating subject to change. Enjoy.

* * *

Prologue

Summer's over, and everyone is surprisingly alive. The Alphas were ruthless in their attack on Beacon Hills. They killed children as warnings, at first. Every week that the pack didn't give up Derek to the Alphas, another child was killed.

Derek, like the martyr he is, gave himself up to the Alphas no matter how much Isaac, Boyd, and Erica told him to stay.

It was a trap.

After they had their hands on Derek, they targeted the Omegas, next. Jackson was the first to be taken in the middle of the night, and Scott was next.

Scott didn't want to work with "Derek's" pack no matter how much Stiles told him to, and Isaac, Boyd, and Eric were clueless without their Alpha. Lydia was on the war path, Allison didn't know what was happening, and no one knew what to do because everyone was spread out too thin.

By a stroke of luck by the Lady herself, Derek managed to escape, surprisingly, with Jackson's help. Derek rounded up Isaac, Boyd, and Erica, and went to talk with Stiles. If Scott wasn't going to listen, then maybe his friend would.

After talking to Derek, Stiles went to Allison. Scott wasn't going to see reason through Stiles eyes no matter how hard he tried, so Stiles had to convince Allison to tell Scott to join Derek's pack.

It wasn't easy.

After many death threats of a certain body parts to be used as target practice and Stiles pleading, more like begging, in his case, Allison was on board with the plan.

Scott joined Derek's pack, no matter how reluctantly, the next day.

Lydia and Stiles devised a plan for the pack, Allison taught the others how to sneak up on werewolves without getting caught, and Derek led the rest of the pack into battle.

It was a long night.

Almost all the Alphas were killed. Derek saved the leader of the Alpha Pack from being killed because someone had to take the blame for killing all those children.

Sheriff Stilinski got a rather large tip on where the Beacon Hills Serial Killer was residing by an anonymous caller the next morning. An alarming amount of evidence was found on the premises when the cops searched the area and found the killer.

Son of a Bitch isn't going to be a problem for a long, long time.

So, now what?

After a rather eventful summer, school's starting. And, like any other normal teenager, almost all the pack had to be awake before the first bell.

It sucks being a teenager sometimes.


	2. Congrats! You're a Family

"Scottie! My man," Stiles jabbed a finger into Scott's shoulder while they were walking to physics, "You have a pack meeting tonight."

Scott sighed, "Do I really have to go?"

Stiles jabbed another finger at him, "Well, duh, of course you do! You're a part of Derek's pack now, and you guys need to meet up regularly."

"You make it sound like I'm in a gang."

Stiles smiles "Think of it as the mafia. You're a family."

Scott stopped walking and turned to Stiles, "Not. Helping."

Stiles put his arm around Scott's shoulder while he beckoned them to move forward before they were late, "Oh, come on. Just go Scott! Plus… Allison is going to be there."

Hook. Line.

They move into the classroom, finding their seats.

Scott sighed and asked, "What time tonight?"

Sinker.

"Isaac says to be there at six."

Scott slouched in his chair, glanced at the door as Allison walked in and muttered, "Fine, I'll go."

Stiles did not do a happy jig. He definitely did not.

* * *

After school ended, instead of going home, Stiles headed to the Hale house. He needed to talk to Derek about the meeting tonight because if he didn't, this whole pack meeting could turn to shit real quick.

He parked his jeep in front of the house and got out.

"Hey! Anyone home?"

He looked at the house waiting for Derek to walk out. No one showed, not even creepy Peter. Where the hell was he all summer anyways?

While playing 'Where's Peter' in his head, Stiles turned around to go back to his jeep but saw Derek instead.

"Shit! You scared the crap out of me! Do you like creeping around and scaring little boys?"

Derek raised his eyebrow, "You refer to yourself as a "little boy"?"

"That is beside the point!" Stiles put his hand on Derek's shoulder, "Anyways, I'm here to talk about the pack meeting tonight."

Derek stared at his hand, "Off."

"Okay! No touchy the grumpy wolf. I understand! Now moving on from your personal space issues, we need to talk about the meeting."

Derek turned to Stiles, "What about it?"

Stiles flailed his arms, "Exactly! There's nothing to talk about now that the Alphas are gone."

Derek grunted, "Your point?"

Stiles mimicked Derek and raised his eyebrow, "My point? What's going to make them stay? What going to make Jackson and Scott stay?"

Derek stayed quiet.

"Exactly my point! But, don't worry. I have a plan."

Stiles looked a little too excited, and Derek was almost afraid to ask but did so reluctantly, "What's your plan?"

Stiles gave Derek a Cheshire smile, "Pack bonding."

Derek grumbled but heard Stiles out until the rest of the pack came to the Hale house at six.

* * *

Everyone arrived to the Hale house without any problems. The house is still in ruins but it is slowly being remodeled, little-by-little. The upstairs is, for the most part, uninhabitable, but the downstairs looks way better than then charred remains that use to preside there. There isn't a TV, much to everyone's disappointment, but there is any array of couches in the living room.

Lydia brought pizza, meat lovers of course, so the remains of that sat in the middle of the crescent they formed with the couches. Derek sat at the farthest end of the crescent, sitting in his own raggedy arm chair. Stiles pulled up a stool from the kitchen, Scott, Allison, Lydia, and Jackson got the grand sofa, while Erica, Boyd, and Isaac got the three person couch at the other end.

Stiles cleared his throat in an awkward fashion, "So…now that everyone's feed, let's start this shebang!"

The pack just stared at him.

Lydia was the first to break the silence.

"Why are we here, exactly? It's not like there's anything else going on. The Alphas are gone, there aren't any Omegas, and there's nothing else weird going on."

Jackson wraps his arm around Lydia's shoulder while he quips, "Yeah, I have a life? I can't just drop everything for you losers."

Derek tilts his head and glares at him to shut up as he leans back on his chair, "We're a pack now. We need to act like a pack."

Stiles adds, "Yeah! Do we even know each other?"

Isaac looks at Stiles like he's stupid, "We've been going to the same school since elementary."

Stiles smiles at Isaac, "Really? Do we really know each other? How about this. Since we know each other so awesomely-"

"That isn't even a word, Stiles."

"-shut up. Since we know each other so _awesomely, _how about we prove it?"

Erica leans forward and grins, "This sounds fun."

"It's supposed to be!" Stiles excitingly says, "We can play a game. Starting with Scott-"

"Hey!"

"-we have to list all the things we know about them in order to prove me wrong. You guys interested?"

The pack agrees.

Stiles turns to Scott and says, "Let's see how much we know about our dear friend Scottie here!"


	3. Revaluations A Plenty

Author's note: Thanks guys so much for the comments! We really appreciate the feedback. We would love to hear what were your favorite parts of the story are or what seemed awkward to you! Anything helps, really. Enjoy.

* * *

"Wait, hold on'" Lydia interjects while crossing her legs in a dramatic fashion.

She brings up a point. "Before anything starts, there has to be rules or this is going to be stupid real fast."

The others weigh what she was referring to and seem to agree.

Stiles ponders, smiles, and snaps his fingers, "I got it! So this little game of ours doesn't go on forever, we can't use characteristics. Like... 'Stiles is annoying'-"

Isaac asks," How about if everyone agr -"

Stiles cuts him off, "Even if everyone thinks so! Gosh, Isaac, I'm hurt!" Stiles mutters quietly, "You're supposed to be the nice one."

Isaac looks away, sheepishly. Stiles gives him a dejected look before continuing on with his explanation with the same enthusiasm as before, "Anyways, before I was _rudely_ interrupted by a very mean comment. It has to be a fact. We'll first say the person in the hot seat's name and go on from there."

Stiles then walks into the center of the crescent and grabs an empty pizza box laying in the pile they had created.

"Whoever has the pizza box is the person we have to describe."

He passes the greasy box to Scott, and the game begins.

* * *

There was a long silence in the room. The only sounds that could be heard were Derek's breathing and Scott's awkward fumbling with the pizza box in his hands.

The cardboard of the box squeaks as Boyd coughs loudly and states, "Scott McCall." Erica feeds off of Boyd's energy and says, "He use to have asthma." Everyone then started to pitch in their own knowledge about Scott.

Lydia contributed that his mom's name is Melissa and a nurse. Jackson supplies that Scott's parents are divorced. Stiles states the obvious and says he's a werewolf in a relationship with Allison, who is a Hunter. Isaac says that Scott plays lacrosse and was really bad at it before he was a werewolf. Derek is the last to say that he works at the vet.

Stiles looks around the room and no one else contributes any other information about Scott.

Stiles precedes to nudge Scott with his shoulder to signal him to pass the pizza box onto Allison. Before anyone can comment after Allison has the box, Erica says candidly, "Allison Argent. Huntress, bitch." Someone is still a little sore from being shot with arrows. Multiple times. Allison squints her eyes and refuses to look at Erica. Scott interrupts the tension and says with forced enthusiasm, "…is very good with a bow!" Her parents are Chris, who sells weapons to authorities, and Victoria, who was their school principle. Everyone seems to get the vibe to not to mention Gerard or Kate. No need for anyone to open that can of worms. She moves around a lot and has family in Washington. She's dating Scott, and everyone quiets down again. Allison takes the cue and passes the box to Lydia.

Lydia Martin. She's really smart, "Dudes, like really, really smart," and has the highest GPA in the school. Her parents are divorced. She wants to win an award for her achievements in math in the future and knows how to translate Latin. She's dating Jackson. She has a dog named Prada and, "…drugs everybody and reanimates my dead uncle." Thanks, Derek. This is supposed to be bonding not prodding.

Lydia uncrosses her legs and switches her position. She stands up, walks over to the raggedy arm chair, and glares at Derek. Before anyone else can contribute to the game on "Who Knows Lydia?" she passes, forcefully pushes, the pizza box to Derek and bluntly states, "Derek Hale. He has a creepy uncle named Peter, and his rather large family died in a fire." Ouch, remember not to piss off Lydia. Derek exhales slowly out of his nose and lays the pizza box on his lap.

He used to be in New York before he came to Beacon Hills and had a sister named Laura. He wears leather. "What? I think we can all come to an understanding that that is like hundred percent true and needs to be noted." He owns a black Camero, is the Alpha, and a born werewolf. His apartment is on the other side of town. He used to go to Beacon Hills High and play baseball. Derek got accused for murder twice, and Stiles earned a glare for that one. He knows how to fix up a house and actually make it look decent, regardless of the extent of damage done to the frame and the building. He's twenty two, and he use to have blue werewolf eyes before he became the Alpha. He owns a part of the Beacon Hills forest where the Hale house resides. The pack adds a few more comments before they quiet down, again.

Derek, a bit irked about the packs knowledge on him, tosses the pizza box left to Stiles. Stiles fumbles with the pizza box and drops it. He skittishly picks it up and sits back down on the stool.

Jackson grunts out, "Stiles Stilinski."

Scott gawkily states, "Dude, that's not his name."

Perhaps the game got a little awkward.

Erica stares at Stiles. "What? Bullshit. We've been calling you that ever since pre-k."

Isaac's eyebrows lower, casting him a pensive look. "Then, what the hell is his name then, Scott?"

Scott shuffles his knees together and looks at Stile, "…He never told me."

Stiles feels like the worst best friend, ever, but, he had his reasons. It was to protect him and his dad, even if the chances of them finding him were slim, there was always a chance.

Stiles places his hand on Scott's shoulder. "Bro, I didn't even know you knew that my name wasn't 'Stiles'. Also, I don't tell anyone my birth name cause' I don't go by it here."

Lydia looks at him a bit too closely. "What do you mean by 'here' exactly?"

Shit. Stiles thought of an excuse, fast. "Uhh…When I mean by 'here' I mean Beacon Hills, and, uh, 'not here' my relatives?"

"Are you asking us?"

"No! It's just…they're the only ones who can pronounce it, and it gets old pretty fast when someone tries to say your name, like, a thousand times and keeps on getting it wrong. Just, umm, disregard my name and continue playing guys! Gosh, are you guys opting out or something?"

Erica grins. "Never."

Stiles' father is the Sheriff. He's second string on the Lacrosse team. His mother passed away. He's best friends with Scott and owns a blue jeep.

A second passes.

"...um he's also human?" Allison ends awkwardly.

Silence.

Isaac looks at Derek and then to Stiles and quips to the rest of the pack, "So...we know more about Derek, the guy who doesn't talk much, then Stiles, the guy who can't keep his mouth shut?"


	4. Neck Pains

Author's Note: Hey guys! Thanks for the responses! They really are our motivation to write and create more of the story. Same questions apply: what was your favorite part and how can we improve? Enjoy.

* * *

How is it that the person you thought you knew the most is the one that is an abyss of secrets?

After Isaac's comment, a cell phone goes off.

**Soooooo, tell me what you want what you really really want and I'll-**

Lydia scrunches her nose in distaste at the song.

Stiles scrambles to get his phone and looks at the caller ID.

It's his dad. He never really thought that his dad calling him would ever be a good thing.

Ever.

Huh, how times have changed.

Stiles answers his phone.

"Yo, Pop. What's the word?"

A shuffling noise comes out of the other end.

Was that a groan?

"Stiles. Promise me you'll never say that again. Ever."

"But, dad-"

"I'll eat the poptarts you hid in the back of the cupboard."

"Okay, okay! Sheesh. What's a guy got to do around here have a little fun, and how'd you know about my secret stash, huh?"

Because, apparently, having the whole pack stare at you while you're talking to your dad is always the latest form of entertainment. Yeah right.

"Stiles, you need to come home."

And, of course his dad would ignore his second question.

Derek is doing his glaring thing at him, now. Great.

"Um, dad? I know summer just ended and have school tomorrow, but it's barley seven thir-"

"It's an emergency."

Stiles jumps out of his stool and the rest are on guard.

He frantically starts spitting out words a mile-a-minute, "Are you alright? Are you okay? Are you in the hospital? Oh my stars, you're in the hospital. Are you dying? Knowing my luck, you're probably dying! I told you not to eat-"

"Stiles."

"-those fries but you still did anyways. And, now I'm going to be alone-"

"Stiles."

"-working the corner to support myself all because you ate those greasy, artery-blocking, little sticks of-"

"STILES. I'm not dying."

Stiles sighs, "And that's because I've got you eating right."

All the Sheriff can do is groan at that. Tofu burgers taste like shit, okay? A man's got to have some real beef, sometimes, and not that processed healthy looking crap.

Stiles calms down and regains his seat on the stool. The others look at Stiles with an air of ease, and with that, the tension of the room seemed to have cleared up, even if it was by a small margin.

The Sheriff continues, "Stiles, you just need to come home, okay? We have a problem we need to deal with that's a **royal** pain in my neck."

Great word play, Sheriff.

Stiles catches on, "Okay, dad I'm on my way."

The line cuts off.

Stiles puts his phone away and makes his way to the door.

"Well, you guys, this was fun and all but I've got to leave."

Scott gives him a small, unsure wave goodbye and the rest follow.

Derek speaks up, "Don't think you're off the hook, Stilinski."

Oh, fuck you, Derek.

And, with that, Stiles makes it out the front door, into his jeep, and drives home.

* * *

Everyone inside the Hale house hears the jeep leave, until only the werewolves can hear the sounds of the jeep's tires on the dirt road.

The pack's eyes seemed to have gravitated to the empty stool laying on Derek's left.

He lets out a frustrated sigh towards the vacant space.

Jackson is the first to speak.

"McCall! How is it you don't know Stilinski's first name, anyways? You guys have been losers together, for like ever."

Scott looks confused.

"Um, no. Stiles and I became friends the summer before eighth grade."

Erica adds, "Yeah, I remember that."

Everyone looks at her.

"What? I use to like Scott before Stiles, okay?"

Scott looked a cross between amazed and scared. It was hard to tell.

Erica cleared her throat.

"Anyways, my point being is that Stiles didn't come into the 'Epic Bromance' until eighth grade."

Boyd then speaks up, "And, everyone remembers Stiles declaration of love to Lydia in third grade."

Isaac starts cracking up, "Yeah, Lydia was so mean to him afterwards."

Lydia looks at her nails, inspecting them.

"Yeah, I remember that. He didn't bother me after that until eighth grade."

Allison asks, "Wait and hold on a minute. He actually left you alone after that?"

Lydia dropped her gaze from her nails and looked at Allison.

"I may or may not have been blunt about declining his affection."

Scott mutters, "…or really really scary."

Derek scowls, "So none of you remember him?"

Everyone shifts the gaze away from Derek.

Derek gets up from his arm chair and says, "We'll ask Stiles tomorrow. Now, everyone get out, and Isaac, clean up."

Isaac may or may not have pouted.

* * *

Stiles parks his jeep in the driveway next to his dad's cruiser and heads to the door. He was about to grave the handle of the front door before it opens.

Fuck.

A guy two or three inches taller than Stiles answers the door.

Shit.

His hair is more on the light brown side framing his face and nestling on the frames of his glasses on a part. A pale blue polo adorns the male, tucking into his fitted khakis held by a slim brown belt. His eyes are dark brown, and he has two moles on his face; one next to his right eye and the other placed on the side of his chin.

The guy grins.

Yup, he looks like an asshole and unfortunately, a familiar one.

Without even acknowledging the guy in front of him, Stiles pushed him to the side to enter the house. He sees his dad. At least he looks sheepish.

"I owed your grandmother a favor?"

Great just great.

Stiles looks back at the guy and groans, loud and long.

The guy's grin only gets bigger and proceeds to speak in Dutch.

_"Why so rude cousin? I haven't seen you in, what, four years? Where's my warm welcoming?"_

Stiles sneers back in his mother tongue, "_In The Netherlands, where you, cousin of mine, are going back to!"_

* * *

The Sheriff sighs, "Stiles, be nice."

Stiles sputters at him, "But you don't even know what I'm saying!"

Sheriff Stilinski looks at Stiles.

"Son, I know you. I don't need to understand what you're saying."

Said son grumbles underneath his breath in displeasure.

The Sheriff put his hand on his shoulder and says, "Stiles, you know I can't speak Dutch very well, and you know your cousin can be irritating without being able to understand him."

Stiles nods.

"Okay, Son, as long as we're on the same page, then don't throw a fit when I tell you that your cousin is staying here, and by 'here' I mean the inflatable mattress I just put up in your room, for a little while."

All Stiles can do at this point is grab his cousin's wrist and pull him up the stairs with more force than nesesary.

He'll figure out later why Matthijs, or, for short 'Matt' was staying with them after they settled in.


	5. Morning Afters

Author's note:

Sorry for the long wait guys! Work is evil :( So here is the new chapter (longer as an apology) :) Enjoy.

What you need to know:

**_Italics_ **is anything being spoken in Dutch!

Please comment on what does/doesn't work for ya'll (Amethyst thinks 'ya'll' is lame even though she uses it) (Only in writing-Amethyst)  
or on what you want to see! You'll never know what might be incorporated...

* * *

The next morning, all was not well. Apparently, Matt was too 'cultured' to sleep on an air mattress, so Stiles was kicked out of his own fucking bed. Damn posh people.

His dad woke him up a while ago, by nudging his side with a clad boot he might add, to say that he didn't have to go to school today. Awesome.

After he recovered from having his side molested by a shoe, the Sheriff told him to entertain Matt. Dammit.

Matt, like himself, hated being bored, and there was only so much to do in a town that doesn't speak a lick of Dutch.

Stiles rolled off the air mattress with a thump. Oh gosh his back hurts! Fuck Matt and his 'cultered' ways! Stiles is sleeping in his own bed tonight, if it's the last thing he does. His hands roam the floor to find his cell phone.

Four unread texts from Scott.

Oh well, he'll worry about that later.

He stands up and makes his way to his cousin who's blissfully sleeping on his bed cuddling a pillow to his chest. Aw, he looks so peaceful, so restful, so serine.

Stiles kicks Matt off the bed.

"_Rise and shiiiine!"_

Matt hit the floor with a groan, "_Ug, what in the world is your problem?"_

Stiles just grinned at his cousin's pain. Ah, revenge was sweet.

"_That's what you get for commandeering my bed!"_

Matt rolled his neck to signal his discomfort, "_Don't you have school? Americans have school this time of year, right? The school schedule over here is just so odd."_

Stiles sighed and helped his cousin up from the floor. What? He was a nice guy.

"_Dad said that I can stay home today, so I'm going to go to the grocery store and you're going to stay here and entertain yourself with my computer while I go get food."_

Before Matt can get a word in, Stiles raced down the stairs, grabbed his keys, and went out the front door all while hearing Matt exclaim from upstairs, "_The stupid computer's in English!"_

Stiles has to love America sometimes.

* * *

The school bell rang and Scott raced to English. He couldn't stop thinking about Stiles. Did he not really know his best friend? They've known each other since eighth grade, how could they not know each other?

Maybe, it was his own fault.

He never really asked Stiles about his family while he ranted about the newest videogame that was coming out. They were friends in the sense where they were comfortable being around each other without any judgments. They didn't need to tell each other deep dark secrets from long ago because they knew that no matter what they'll always be friends. That's the understanding that Scott came up with.

Wasn't like that for Stiles, too?

Scott had texted Stiles after the pack meeting, multiple times, but he didn't reply back. He'll ask Stiles what was going on in class.

The teacher, thankfully, wasn't there and irritatingly, neither was Stiles.

He went to take his seat next to Isaac, looking at the empty seat in front of his own.

He hopes he gets a chance to talk to his best friend soon, preferably.

The whole class was chatting, taking advantage of the teacher's absence, and Scott saw a window of opportunity to talk to Isaac.

"Hey, Isaac!"

Isaac turns from his desk and faces Scott.

"What?"

Scott fidgets in his chair.

"I-I just can't believe I don't know Stiles that well. Did you know him before eighth grade?"

Scott needed answers.

"Um, no. I just thought, you know, he's always around."

Did everyone really just overlook Stiles? How could they?

Stiles is a pretty hard person to miss, even if you don't know him.

Jackson, who sat behind Isaac, jumped into the conversation, cutting off Scott's line of thought.

"Stilinski's been keeping things from us, and he ran out after we confronted him."

It wasn't true! Scott knows Stiles, even if he doesn't know his family, he knows the person. Stiles never kept things from them, it was just…they never really asked.

Huh.

Danny, who sat next to Jackson and behind Scott, looked at the three of them with an odd look on his face.

Did Danny know something?

Isaac asks, "What, Danny?"

Danny rests his head in his hand and quirks his eyebrow, "You guys are talking about Stiles, right?"

They all nod in confirmation.

Scott speaks up, "Yeah, we're trying to find someone who knew Stiles before eighth grade and after third. No one seems to remember him."

He has a sad, dejected look after he finishes his sentence.

He kind of blames himself for that.

Danny laughs, oddly enough, "Well, yeah. No one would remember him before eighth grade. He wasn't here."

Who said what now?

They all stare at him with surprised looks and Isaac asks slowly, "What do you mean 'he wasn't here'?"

What the hell is Danny talking about? Scott has never been this confused in his life, and this is after he was bitten by a werewolf!

Danny looks at all of them, "He moved away with relatives after third grade and came back in the summer before eighth grade. You didn't know that?"

Scott didn't.

He was about to ask a series of questions before the English teacher came in and started class.

Isaac whispers to all of them, "We'll finish this conversation at lunch."

Time went all too slowly after that.

* * *

Stiles sighed as he entered the grocery store. He didn't know why, but doing little domestic things like this, buying groceries, always lifted a weighted off of him.

It would always remind him of his mother.

She would take him to the grocery store and the market, and when she had to make food for dinner, she would teach him how to cook. She began the old habit of him humming while he cooks, and he doesn't mind at all.

His father joked all the time, back when he was little, that he would be the perfect stay-at-home dad.

The Sheriff just seems to avoid the topic of domesticity now, and just complements his cooking, from time-to-time.

Stiles grabs a cart and pushes through the aisles, snatching things he needs while pondering on what to make at home for him, his dad, and Matt.

He hasn't cooked anything Dutch in a while, so maybe he'll do that.

Hunter's Dish sounds good to make. Ironic as it may be, it's too good to pass up. All he'll have to do is make it more heart-friendly. Goodbye butter, salt, and fat.

As he went to the produce aisles to see what apples to use, he began to ponder about the pack meeting last night.

Did that really happen?

He never knew that the tables would be turned on him, and when he thought about it, he had it coming.

He told Derek that none of them really knew each other, and to be a better pack, they had to be comfortable with one another on a more personal scale.

Pack is family, and as of right now, none of them consider it as so.

He bags the apples, collects anything else that's missing from his basket, and makes his way to checkout and then, home.

* * *

Lunch, as usual, is unappetizing, but when you're a teenager that's hungry and low on cash, you eat up the cafeteria crap.

The pack, excluding Derek and Stiles, sat in one table. Danny joined in, sitting next to Jackson.

He looked a bit uncomfortable.

Maybe that was because he had seven pairs of eyes staring at him.

Huh, news seemed to spread around fast.

Jackson nudged Danny, and Danny coughed awkwardly into his hand.

"So…what did you guys want to know?"

Lydia, being smart enough to pack her own lunch, forked some of her salad and asked, "What do you know about Stiles?"

Danny scratched his head.

"Well, the usual. He has a massive crush on Lydia."

That earned a scoff from said girl.

"His Dad is the Sheriff."

Stating the obvious.

"He was in elementary school with us-"

Well, duh.

"-until third, and moved out till eighth grade."

Other than Isaac, Jackson, and Scott, everyone else was confused.

Lydia stabbed her salad.

"What do you mean by 'moved out'? He was always here in Beacon Hills. His dad never moved. If you hadn't noticed, his dad's the Sheriff."

Lydia did make sense.

Danny tugged at his arm sleeves in discomfort.

"Well, yeah, but he lived with his relatives out of town after his mom passed away."

Oh. That makes more sense.

Lydia looked as though she had an epiphany.

"Is that what he meant by 'here' last night?"

That was something to ask Stiles about, after they got the chance to talk to him.

Erica looked a little closer at Danny.

"How do you know all this?"

"Stiles and I were friends in elementary, so I was sad when he left and stuff."

Who knew?

Scott, after hearing Stiles' name, exclaimed, "Stiles!"

The seven pairs of eyes gravitated to Scott.

Allison asked, "Scott, what about Stiles?"

Scott looked frantic.

"I texted him last night and he didn't answer! He's not here today, either!"

Isaac pips, "I'll text Derek to check up on him."

That seems to sooth Scott, and with everyone else, they all had one question in mind.

Why didn't Stiles tell them before?

* * *

Derek was frustrated.

Or, more in particular, Stiles frustrated Derek.

Isaac texted him a short while ago about Stiles absence, and now he's in his camero, driving to his house.

Derek sighed, and parked a block away, before he started to walk to the Stilinski home.

He could always hear Stiles heartbeat from a mile away, and it was oddly comforting, in the frustrating way.

He got closer to the house, and concentrated on Stiles heartbeat.

Stiles doesn't need to know what Derek does in his pass time.

Derek takes a deep breath in and stills.

There are two people in the house, one downstairs in the kitchen and one upstairs in Stiles' bedroom, and the Sheriff's cruiser is not in the parkway.

Derek doesn't recognize the scent of the other person, and he can't pinpoint it either.

He takes a guess that Stiles is the one in the bedroom and leaps to the window.

He enters the room and sees a stranger in Stiles' room.

Derek does the first thing that comes to mind.

He grabs the stranger by the shirt, pushes him to the wall, and snarls.

"Who the hell are you?!"

The stranger's eyes are wide behind his frames and chokes out loudly, "_Cousin, come up here! There's a strange guy that came inside through your window!"_

That wasn't English.

Derek hears a crash from the kitchen and feet racing up the stairs.

Stiles is breathing hard from the excursion as he opened the door, and looks between Matt and Derek in horror.

"Derek, let him go!"

Derek lets go of Matt, walks up to Stiles, grabs his shirt, pulls him to his chest, and growls, "Who the hell is he?"

Matt looks at his cousin and smirks.

"_Stiles, I approve. Didn't know you fancy the other team, but nevertheless, I approve. I can leave while you and your three o'clock booty call 'talk'"_

Derek has no idea what the hell the guy is saying but he doesn't like it by the sight of Stiles becoming red.

Maybe, he likes it a little bit.

He'll never admit it out loud, though.

Stiles swallows the rest of his blush down and grits out to Matt, "_He isn't my 'booty call', Matthijs! Go down stairs while I talk to him."_

Derek looks at Stiles in surprise.

That wasn't English, either.

What the hell?

Matt starts to walk out of the room, but says one thing before he walks out completely.

"_Sure. I'll leave you guys to 'talk'."_

The stupid bastard smiles all the way down the stairs.

Stiles looks at Derek with a sheepish smile and says, "So…what brings you to my homey adobe?"

* * *

Hi peeps! So if you guys don't know there is two of us involved in this story. I'm Peridot, who writes, and Amethyst, who draws (she's been lazy). We both conspire together to make the story's plot and what not :) on the comments it's either one of us!

Just a little author(s) intro :)


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